I didn’t write much of this piece. largely.
I was worried it would come across as provocative, like I was asking for trouble. But that’s the attitude that has silenced victims of harassment and stalking for far too long.
The short version of this story is that an undesirable presence continues to plague my life, bringing only chaos and bitter malice with each intrusion. In his eyes, our “dynamic” was “unstable” (what a dynamic?), but listening to him tell me, I can’t help but think we had a more meaningful relationship than we actually had. Sho. “This is the definition of an erotomatoptic fantasy,” my colleague said. We are all psychiatrists.
In fact, we weren’t particularly close. We were briefly members of the same friend group, but I noticed that his personality and sense of hygiene were lacking. I filed a no-contact order against him years ago, took detours around campus to physically avoid him, ignored him, and made it clear he was not welcome in my life. I did.
wastefully. Last month, I was met with classic spite from him when I rejected his unpleasant advances. My tormentor used the tired misogynistic metaphor: “She’s crazy.” Variations include “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” and “Psycho.” It’s all the same insulting nonsense.
For setting boundaries again, he angrily labeled me an “untreated borderline” and “an intolerable monster,” a ridiculous edict that made me and my housemates laugh hysterically.
I was desperately reviewing the DSM-5 diagnostic criteria for borderline personality disorder. I’m not impulsive, I don’t have a chronic sense of emptiness or an unstable identity, I don’t actually have a pathological fear of being abandoned or perceived as abandoned… ”
Until someone interrupts me. “Chloe, you give him too much credit. Do you think he actually knows what Borderline Personality Disorder is?”
The reality has become clear. And the impact was profound.
Although I am a mental health professional, I sometimes naively forget that people, including medical professionals, use the term mental health as a derogatory term. When you hear the words “bipolar disorder,” you think of “a sustained state of high energy and mood that increases goal-directed activity and decreases the need for sleep.” However, when used colloquially, “bipolar disorder” often means “I’m annoyed because they changed their mind.”
We do not intend to limit freedom of expression. Indeed, there are descriptors that are perfectly valid for everyday use, yet constitute very specific diagnoses in psychiatry. For example, “anxiety disorder,” “depression,” or even “narcissist.” I use these terms both casually and in the hospital, and they have different meanings in each situation.
But labeling a woman who says no to you “borderline” is actually a different kind of insensitivity, as is the whole crazy ex-girlfriend trope.
First of all, when you mistakenly use mental health terminology to insult someone, you are inferring that there is something inherently wrong with someone who is suffering from a mental illness. It assumes that having a mental disorder is something to be ashamed of, ridiculed, or that the person labeled is inherently undesirable and despised.
As a psychiatry resident, I despise this attitude. This causes people who truly need help with their mental health to avoid seeking care for fear of being shamed. They suffer in silence. Their quality of life is significantly reduced. You may even lose your life. Shame is a powerful and destructive enemy.
Additionally, the weaponization of mental health is a common but effective means of controlling people with abusive tendencies.
People who harass or stalk people they feel entitled to, such as former intimate partners or those who were unwitting objects of erotic fantasies, were held accountable. They often use these labels to undermine the trust of their victims. This is a proven tactic identified by Dr. Jennifer Frayed in 1997, in which the perpetrator reverses the roles of victim and perpetrator, in which the victim is actually the perpetrator in an abusive power relationship. I claim. Although originally studied in sex offenders, DARVO (denial, attack, victim-offender reversal) is a common dynamic in abusive relationships.
It’s a way of saying, “Are you challenging me?” Let me tell you what else I can do for you.
She’s crazy, and so is he! You won’t believe it! Look how insecure she is, and look how ridiculous he is!
What is so frightening to victims of power differential abuse is that these tactics work.
I’m not the only one. I’ve heard stories from loved ones about controlling people’s obsession with them and the horrible meanness they get after being rejected. One of my best friends and I connected through this common experience during our senior year of college.
Harassment causes an unbearable psychological burden. I was constantly anxious, restless, unable to concentrate, unable to maintain peace, and each day I felt further away from myself. I kept asking myself. Why do I deserve this? I just want to be left alone. What is wrong with me that this happened to me? ”
But my logical brain kicked in after a few weeks. And I think that in this power relationship – in fact, the power in which one person pursues another relentlessly and maliciously, with no regard for the well-being or sanity of the victim, but only for their own desire for control. I understand that the only thing that is vile in a relationship is the aggressor. Perverting mental health terminology to insult victims.
It is not unreasonable for victims to have boundaries. The only shame is the aggressor who perpetuates the stigma of a highly stigmatized population through his selfish and abusive efforts to control a person whose greatest offense is to say the word “no” belongs to.
Chloe N.L. Lee is a psychiatry resident.
